


A Perfect Storm

by pansexualfandommess (redvelvetrose), SincereJester



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Convenient Storm Is Convenient, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, GRSecretSpy, Gingerose Holiday Exchange 2020: Secret Spy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Battle of Crait (Star Wars), Rose Tico Needs A Hug, Sharing a Bed, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvelvetrose/pseuds/pansexualfandommess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SincereJester/pseuds/SincereJester
Summary: Hux is deliberately left behind on Crait. Rose is not-so-deliberately left behind on Crait. They both are forced to work together to survive the salt planet.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	A Perfect Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ninjantome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjantome/gifts).



All too-familiar aching pain raced across his entire frame as Hux gasped a ragged breath down his bruised throat. His eyelids fluttered open as he struggled to remember how to breathe. A searing bright light stretched across the horizon of his vision, framed by a glittering, cavernous darkness. His own moans echoed in his ears as he sought to recall how he came to be in this circumstance.

He had been in the shuttle hanging over the glistening salt pan in front of the Resistance base on Crait, watching as the cannon split the massive metal bulkhead gate and melted it to slag. The rebels' doomed attack on their forces was as pathetic as it was desperate. It was effortless for the First Order to advance, a final victory to this farce of a chase within their easy grasp...until that undisciplined fool Kylo Ren, distracted by personal vendetta and unbridled fury, had been goaded into a duel with Luke Skywalker.

Ah, yes, it was coming back to him now: his urging against distraction to the newly self-appointed Supreme Leader had been met with an angry dismissive gesture as the mysterious invisible power at his command had abruptly slammed his body into the shuttle side wall. They had put down on the salt by the time Hux had dragged himself off the floor and into a seat near the front portal, where he watched the entire drama play out. He wasn't quite sure what he had witnessed, although it was certainly epic, lightsabers flashing and sizzling as the two figures circled each other in their deadly dance. Despite his victory, Kylo Ren had not been pleased when he returned to the shuttle.

Hux groaned and shut his eyes against the light as he frowned, remembering. They had paraded into the base, Kylo Ren sweeping forward like some bizarre bird of prey as he had followed behind with the troopers. Disgusted that his lack of control had cost them their victory, Hux had lurked behind Kylo Ren as the troop fanned out, watching smugly at his rival's consternation at the abandoned control room. Ren had knelt and picked up something from the ground, lost in contemplation; Hux remembered thinking of how vulnerable and unguarded a position it was--similar to how he found Ren back on the Supremacy just before--and how easy it would have been to grab this second opportunity...and then the breath had choked out of him like it had been sucked out into the vacuum of space. The last thing he remembered was clawing at his collar as he collapsed, the room and its kneeling occupant misting from his sight.

Hux frowned. "That arrogant, self-proclaimed tyrant tried to strangle me!" he thought. Perhaps it was fortunate that Kylo Ren had been pre-occupied, or at least cared so little about him, that he hadn't finished the job before leaving. Cautiously he opened his eyes, squinting as he glanced around for any signs of others. Finding himself alone, he rolled onto his side and rose to his feet, swaying slightly as he got his bearings. Apparently, they had left him where he fell; probably under orders. Again, at least they hadn't been told to just shoot him, but it still irked him how he was abandoned so callously. His throat still ached and was incredibly dry; he decided his first priority was to find water and then assess what resources he had available to him.

He had no idea how long it took him to traverse the open cave of the base's main hanger, only that it was arduous and painful. There were numerous paths leading deeper into the cliff face, but he chose to ignore those for the moment. The comm center was as deserted as the rest of the place; not that it would have mattered, since any transmissions would have been jammed. If there had been any stores left there, he couldn't find them. Several transport ships lay abandoned on the hangar bay. Searching one of them he found the much-needed water. As a means of escape, the ships were useless: they had no fuel, and again, all communications would have been blocked, but it was a shelter of sorts, and would do as a base of operations while he recovered and planned what to do next.

Rose groaned softly, pain lancing through her entire body. Even the idea of opening her eyes hurt. She tried to focus just on breathing, struggling through the searing pain in her ribs. Involuntarily, she coughed and then made an agonized sound in response to the squeezing pain. "Kriffing hell..." she groaned, along with several other choice vulgarities. "Fuck... guess I'm not dead. Death wouldn't hurt this much," she whimpered to herself.

It was too quiet... where were the battle sounds? The ships? The gorilla walkers? All she could hear was her own breathing and the slight pickup of the cool wind. Grunting with pain, she opened her eyes and shifted in her seat. She was still in her busted mono-ski skiff. The others must have thought she was dead. They would never have left her behind otherwise. A quick glance at her reflection in the shattered glass told her that she did indeed _look_ dead.

Rose struggled her way out of her skiff, tumbling down to the salty ground with a pained grunt. She couldn't stay out here in the blowing salt, nor could she just stay in the destroyed skiff. It didn't offer much in the way of shelter and nothing in the way of bacta or food or water. There were hidden supplies at the base, she knew it. They hadn't had time to search much, but there had to be emergency supplies there.

Tears squeezed from her eyes as she shambled painfully towards the broken doors. Frankly, she was lucky her legs seemed to have escaped unscathed, but the effort of standing upright made pain shoot up her sides and back, affecting her balance. It felt like forever, but was probably closer to an hour before she reached the ruined doors. In her attempt to hurry inside, she overestimated her strength and tumbled to the metal floor with a shout of both surprise and pain.

Holding back tears, Rose struggled to her knees, but found standing to be too momentous a task for her to complete by herself. "Hello?" she called desperately. Maybe someone was still here? Maybe they were just hiding? Ridiculous, but she was grasping at threads. "Anyone? Please?" Panic was creeping into her voice. If she was all alone, she was as good as dead. There was no way she could reach their stores like this. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down and she had no shelter that she could reach. She needed med packs and food and water, but she couldn't get to any of them.

Hux instinctively reached for his blaster at the sudden clatter outside of the transport, cautiously peering down the open ramp. He hadn't seen any evidence of sentient life during his brief sweep of the base, but there was no question the source of the voice out there was very much alive.

"Please, I need help..." Rose called, though her voice was strained with both pain and tears. Convinced that she was truly alone, she'd begun to cry in earnest, feeling entirely bereft. "Please, please, please... please let someone hear me... anyone..." she whispered, as much to herself as to any gods or goddesses listening.

"Identify and show yourself," Hux demanded, his voice still raspy.

"I... I can't! I can't stand up," Rose replied after a brief, surprised yelp. "My name's Rose. Rose Tico. I'm a mechanic." Judging by the Imperial accent, whomever else was here was not a member of the Resistance. "I'm unarmed, I promise. I lost my blaster in my skiff. It got destroyed when I crashed."

Rose Tico....Of all the damned misfortunes, he was stranded on Crait with the single rebel in all the galaxy he most had reason to avoid! So, she had survived the destruction of the Supremacy, only to be caught here, and by her own words, had been injured in the feeble attack on the cannon. Still, her assistance might prove useful in getting the transport working, or the comm. "Where are you?" he called, descending the ramp and scanning the chamber.

"By the door... or... what's left of the door," she called, noticing the way the door was peeled back by the concussive force of the battering cannon. She was kind of glad that she had missed that thing performing its function.

With the promise of help nearby, she once more tried to stand. There was nothing wrong with her legs, per se. But her back and hips had been so badly wrenched in the crash and she was just so exhausted, that they were all but useless. Footsteps approached and she turned to look up at her sole companion.

Her face immediately fell, features slack. If she'd had enough color to turn pale, she would have. "You?" was all she could say in utter disbelief. General Hux! What in nine blazes of blue fuck was he doing here? Where was the rest of his precious First Order? Had he been left behind by accident? On purpose? Was he just here to "clean up" as it were? Making sure there were no Resistance survivors?

"Yes, me." He moved closer, pushing a repulsor-lift medical stretcher in front on him. "Get on."

Well, she supposed that meant he wasn't going to just shoot her. With a pained grimace, she pulled herself onto the stretcher, laying on her side with a whimper. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be on a star destroyer celebrating your victory or something?"

"Shouldn't you be dead?" he retorted. He didn't know the ultimate outcome of the battle; whether the tiny faction of Resistance fighters had survived, or even what had happened to the First Order after the attack on their flagship and their sweep of the base. He had every intention of finding out as soon as possible, of course, but he'd deal with that in due time.

"Not for lack of trying, clearly," she groaned, biting her bottom lip to keep from yelping as he pushed the stretcher further inside of the compound. "There's... there's supplies... hidden. I know where. But I can't get to them myself." She looked him up and down, wondering if it was monumentally stupid of her to even consider this. What choice did she have? "Look, if we're alone here... we're going to need to help each other out. So... truce?"

"You need medical attention," Hux replied. "I'm taking you back to the transport so you can receive it. As for a truce...we seem to be the only ones here. Our chances of survival are greater if we work together--for now."

"For now," she agreed glumly. "What happened? Where is everybody?" Talking kept her from panicking, kept her from dissolving once more into tears of despair. "Did... did the Resistance get away?" Probably bad form to ask him and expect the truth, but maybe they could find some sort of happy medium.

Hux grimaced. "I have no idea," he growled. He guided the stretcher up the ramp into the transport, tethering it to the medical array. Fortunately, there was still power available onboard that would last for some time, especially if they were careful. He handed Rose one of the water canteens he had found onboard, urging her to drink.

Rose shakily sat up, sipping the water gratefully. She knew better than to try and gulp it down. Puking water all over herself was not something she ever wanted to do, let alone in front of someone like Hux. "How'd you wind up all by yourself?" she asked instead, eyeing him speculatively. He was certainly in better shape than she was. Looked like he had some bruises going on, plus a cut on his forehead covered in dried blood. He seemed to be moving about relatively easily, though that huge coat of his could easily have hidden any number of injuries. "You don't seem badly injured.”

He gave her a hawkish look. "You are far too inquisitive," he remarked, although he was secretly pleased that he hid his injuries so well. It wasn't surprising, though: he had a lot of practice. "I lost consciousness while we were chasing the pitiful few of you left out of this decrepit hole."

"It's one of my best qualities, thank you very much," she replied with a sniff. "Get hit on the head?" she asked, indicating where the cut on his brow was, using her own head for reference. "You got a pretty nasty bump there."

Ignoring her, he continued, "I was alone when I came to, until you turned up." He lowered himself somewhat gingerly onto the bench nearby and reached for some water.

"Shouldn't you be hooked up too?" she asked, gesturing to the medical array currently recording her vitals and dispensing bacta as needed. "I mean, you don't seem to be hurt badly, but you're still hurt. Getting knocked out is no small thing. The human brain is very delicate and even short bits of blacking out can be really bad." And.... she was babbling again. To General Hux. Kriffing hell.

Hux leaned his head against the wall with a sigh. "I probably should. And I said I lost consciousness, not was knocked out." Sweet stars, why was he quibbling with this irritating woman? Everything ached from his head down to his fingertips, and what he wanted was some quiet rest. He staggered to his feet and regarded her blearily. "Look, we both need to recover, so I'm going to the front to lie down. Since we seem to be the only ones here and we're going to need to survive this together, I agree to your truce, for the time being. Now, please, just....be quiet."

Thankfully Rose Tico simply nodded an agreement as he shuffled the few steps to the padded platform at the front of the transport and lowered himself onto it. So much had happened, and so quickly, that he simply hadn't had time to process it all, and judging by her reactions, neither had Rose. First things first, Hux thought: heal the immediate physical injuries so they could focus on survival. Fortunately, he had already doctored himself with salvaged bacta and painkillers before Rose had shown up, and their effect was beginning to be felt. Welcome sleep came quickly to them both.

Sheer exhaustion ensured that Rose remembered no dreams, if she'd even had any. She woke, blinking blearily and groaning when she recognized where she was. Kriff, she'd hoped it was some kind of awful dream and that she would wake in her bunk with Paige above her, teasing her about being a bedslug. No such luck.

Sitting up, her back ached but not enough to make her lay back down. Experimentally, she slid her legs down and gingerly attempted to stand. Not too bad. A little pain in her hips and up her lower back, but she didn't feel like her limbs might fall off. She glanced up, noting that Hux was still asleep, breathing lightly. With his face relaxed, he actually looked quite peaceful. She thought, not for the first time if she was honest with herself, that he was actually quite handsome. Ivory pale skin and hair bright as fire. The barest hint of color on his high cheekbones prevented him from looking deathly pale, but there were dark circles under his eyes. This man didn't sleep enough, she realized. From what Finn had told her about life in the First Order, it took little imagination to assume that Hux probably existed primarily on stims and sheer willpower.

Too bad he'd set that willpower on being an intergalactic bully.

Quiet as a mouse, she slipped from the transport and picked along the wall, she knew there was one of several hidden storage compartments here that had food rations and water supplies. They would need both.

When Hux woke up some time later he felt much better, much to his relief. Sitting up and glancing around, he stretched, noting the now-empty medical stretcher. She hadn't murdered him while he slept, at least; that was a start. He rose from the platform pad and scanned the bay of viewports, trying to locate Rose, but there was no sign of her. He welcomed the momentary solitude; it would give him a chance to collect his thoughts.

He wasn't concerned with their immediate welfare: there appeared to be enough supplies on the transports and scattered throughout the base to sustain them for some time. Their priority was to reestablish communications and arrange for rescue, but therein was the dilemma: who would they contact first?

Obviously, he would contact the First Order. He considered possible outcomes. The likelihood of the First Order still being in the system rather than the Resistance was high, at least in part: there would have to be some salvage effort of the remains of the Supremacy. If there are any Resistance survivors, they'd be systems away from now, in retreat and possibly in hiding--not in position to attempt a rescue, certainly. However, Hux doubted Tico would agree to cooperate with him if it meant being captured by the First Order again. And of course, there's a remote possibility, even if he did manage to contact his own people, that they wouldn't, or couldn’t, respond. After all, they had abandoned him in the first place, whether under the order of Kylo Ren or not.

Hux felt a burst of anger. 'I should have shot him when I had the chance,' he thought with some bitterness. Twice, actually, but when he thought about it, had there really been a chance? This mysterious Force wielded by both Snoke and Kylo Ren was not merely mythology: he himself had experienced its very tangible effect on physical reality, even if he wasn't a believer of any sort. The Force or no, Supreme Leader Snoke was dead, Kylo Ren had seized power right out of Hux's grasp, and with it the command over the entire First Order. Hux didn't doubt that Kylo Ren had been behind his abandonment on Crait; the only surprise, frankly, was that he hadn't outright killed him.

Rose gathered enough supplies for the day and maneuvered her way back out of the caverns. It was a good thing that she wasn't any taller, or this would have been downright impossible. Someone pretty smallish must have made these hidey-holes in the first place. Maybe even Leia herself. She bit her bottom lip as she emerged into the hangar. General Leia Organa. Had she survived the attack and escaped with the others? She vaguely remembered the Millennium Falcon joining the battle, but there was no evidence anywhere that it had crashed or been destroyed. Nor was there any evidence of any blaster fire inside of the hangar. Therefore, she could only assume that what was left of the Resistance, including General Organa, had fled. A sobering thought; that the entirety of the Resistance could all fit on the Falcon. A YT light freighter was not very big, even if you included the smuggling spaces.

"Hux?" she called as she headed towards the transport. "You awake yet, boss-man?"

_That familiarity of hers is grating_ , Hux thought. _Does anyone in the Resistance have a sense of protocol or rank?_ He supposed it would just have to be another irritation to endure for the time being. "It's Hux, and yes, I'm awake. Is there a functional refresher anywhere nearby?"

"Yes, towards the back, behind the communications array. It's a grey door with some blue paint peeling off of it. The water's clean, although not heated yet. I can fix that later though. There are heated springs underground. I just need to find one and figure out how to jerry-rig it to siphon up here. Shouldn't be too hard with only the two of us to provide for," she said, setting her supplies down on a nearby table. "I have rations enough for today for the two of us. Water and food-wise."

"Excellent," Hux replied as he exited the transport and made his way toward the indicated door. "As soon as I return, we can discuss our next move."

Rose made a mocking salute once he was out of view, "YesSIR," she slurred before making a fake sound of disgust. "If I wanted to be ordered about, I would have stayed on Hays Minor. Yeesh." She busied herself with preparing the rations, using the water to raise the bread and thin out the way-too-thick gravy for the meat portions. They were old rations, obviously, and she tried to make them as palatable as possible. A little bit of salt and other spices from the tiny galley helped a great deal.

She heard Hux's booted footsteps before she saw him. "Here. Best I can manage for breakfast, but it should be easy enough to eat. Who knows how long these rations have been hidden here?"

Looking as tidy as possible when he returned, Hux took the offered rations tray and sat near one of the stacks of storage containers. "They'll suffice," he remarked as he began to eat perfunctorily.

"You're welcome," Rose said with a touch of sarcasm to her voice. Apparently, the First Order didn't teach manners as a priority. She perched on one of the crates with her own tray, eating with a bit more active curiosity than Hux was. The rations weren't bad, per se. Considering that they were close to forty years old, they were downright amazing. Everything was just a tad chewier than they should be due to being stale. Well, it wasn't the first time she'd had to eat stale food.

Hux glanced up from his tray at her remark and realized how rude he had sounded. "Thank you for preparing it. I appreciate your...resourcefulness." After a few more bites, he paused. "I'm not much of a gourmand; food is simply fuel to me."

"That much, I do know. Finn said the food in the First Order was just as nutrient dense as they could make it. Not much attention paid to taste. At least for the troopers. He said lots of soldiers and officers tended to rely on those awful hunger stims that just make you feel like you've been fed without actually giving you much in the way of nutrients." She shuddered to even think of living half on stims of any kind. They weren't addictive like spice, but still... as far as she was concerned, they weren't healthy in the least.

Hux shrugged. "In general, officers have access to a greater variety of foodstuffs, and everyone has ample hydration." He looked back down at the rations. "I'm just not all that interested, personally--I'm more likely to drink tea or caf than to eat. Your rations and those of the First Order don't seem much different, anyway. But I do appreciate you providing them, and preparing them."

For some reason, his bare praise pleased her. "You're welcome," she said, though it was sincere this time. "When I was a child, food was... it was more than just food. Baba would cook for us and, even when there wasn't much, she always made it special for my sister and me. When meimei and cha would come home from the mines, she would make a huge deal out of it and Paige and I would get to help. Baba would let us roll out dough or sprinkle spices. Little things that kids can do without messing anything up too badly."

"Hm," commented Hux, who finished up the remains on his tray. "I've lived off this type of fare for as long as I remember; sometimes better, sometimes less so." He took a long sip of water.

"You never had home-cooked food?" she asked with a streak of wonder. "No wonder you are the way you are." It was meant to be a joke, of course. A gentle bit of teasing to ease the tension around them.

"I was practically born into military service, and spent most of my life shipbound; the Supremacy was my home." He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, the way I am?"

"Well, you know. You act more like a droid than a human. The clipped way of talking, the overly calm overlay, the way you rarely seem to get flustered by anything. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be 95% cyborg," she shrugged. It wasn't meant as an insult, clearly. Merely an observation.

Hux flashed a rare wry smile. "Better than some rumours about my identity, I suppose. I assure you my demeanor is the product of my military upbringing and training, not from any cybernetic technological enhancement. I'm certainly not a droid--or clone, for that matter. I've heard that one, too. Are you saying I have a reputation in the Resistance?" he asked with a lightness that bordered on humor.

"A relatively mysterious young man who has somehow manhandled his way to the top of the First Order? The rumors are many and varied. Although, most people don't even entertain the more outlandish ones," Rose shrugged. "I'm, like, 99% sure you're not the secret son of Palpatine or Tarkin or Thrawn."

Hux covered his surprised laugh with a small cough, waving a dismissive hand. "Sadly, no, I am not related to any of those named. 'Mysterious young man' has a certain ring to it, though. And I did earn my position, too, despite that."

"So how did you wind up being raised in the First Order? You're not a stolen kid, so far as I can tell. Troopers very rarely make officer, that's obvious from how people reacted to seeing Finn in a captain's uniform." She cleaned up her tray and stood, walking over to him with her hand out for his. The transport had a small incinerator for rubbish, luckily, so they wouldn't wind up dirtying their own living space.

"I was part of the Jakku Imperial Remnant. As part of the emperor's contingency plan, we were sent to the Unknowns after the Battle of Jakku. I wasn't raised in the First Order; I was one of its creators." Hux paused, bitter again over Kylo Ren's usurpation of what he felt was rightfully his position. It was particularly galling to be so disconnected from current events or the outcome of the recent skirmishes, with that dangerously unstable pretender leading his army, his carefully crafted troops, on whatever pointless whim he chose.

"So... what makes you think it's your job to run the galaxy?" she asked with an astonishing amount of casualness. "I mean, not you meaning specifically you. I mean the collective 'you' of the First Order."

"Because we can," Hux answered simply. "Because it's our destiny. It's literally what defines us: first, order. The galaxy needs a strong central government with the support of superior technology and military; we are that very thing."

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should," Rose said, reciting something often said to her by baba; usually whenever she wanted to do something that had sounded fun at the time, but was probably dangerous or harmful in the long run. "I mean, has it occurred to you that people might not want to be lorded over by technology and military? That people are inherently distrustful of a government that sticks their nose in one's private business too much? The New Republic is a hot mess, to be sure. But very few people would be in favor of yet another military dictatorship."

"It was precisely because your so-called New Republic was so complacent, corrupt and stagnant that the First Order was needed to begin with! What people want is not what is needed; it is criminally short-sighted and dangerously indulgent to think it is. Life is a cruel taskmaster, Rose Tico, and not learning from history is just..foolish."

"You still haven't convinced me why the First Order should be in charge instead? Just because you have the scariest weapons and biggest army? Those are words of a bully, not a savior," Rose countered back. "I might be from a small mining planet that no one cares about, but I'm not stupid. The First Order is just the extreme opposite of the New Republic's inaction. What's so different about the First Order from the Empire? You're younger and more ruthless... that's really about it. There's still violence and corruption and bribery and war and death."

"The First Order is not the sole source of those things, Rose Tico; the galaxy has had them long before even the Old Republic. We may have arisen from the Imperial Remnant, but we are not the Empire; we have learned from the past. Even the emperor himself knew that the Empire had failed to excise the decadence and entropy of the Republic and started with a clean slate. There are unimaginable dangers in the Unknowns; threats that would make our galactic conflicts look like petty squabbling of children. The only hope this galaxy has is our unified forces, and the First Order is ready and willing to use whatever means necessary to survive; something I suggest we focus on instead of our philosophical differences if we plan to get out of here." Hux stood up. "I'm not a fool, Rose Tico. You made your sentiments quite clear aboard the Supremacy and we have no time to waste on pointless arguments. I agreed to your truce, but I don't consider us allies. Both of us are stuck here; we need to contact our people as soon as possible so we can go our separate ways, and nothing more."

"Well, pardon me for being curious about your reasoning. I just thought existing in salty silence was not terribly effective for either of us. It would make this a lot easier if we at least try to be friendly with each other. I'd rather not have to mull over every word out of your mouth to try and figure out if you're trying to trick me," Rose huffed. "And the only sentiments I made clear on the Supremacy were that I didn't like you chucking me under the chin and calling me vermin."

Hux grimaced. "Which you did by biting me, for some absurd reason! Not the most convincing method of changing my opinion. And I wasn't the one who started this combative questioning, either." Hux sighed, crumpling slightly from his sudden aggression. "Again, far too much has happened recently, and is probably still happening, while we are trapped on this oversized salt crystal debating sides."

"I wasn't trying to change your opinion of me. I just wanted to hurt you. You were going to execute me anyway, I might as well do something desperate," she shrugged. "Good thing you were wearing a glove. I don't think I was able to get through the leather."

"Not entirely, but you did some damage," Hux admitted. It was startling to realize that was fairly recent; it felt much longer. "Truth is I might have done the same if I had been in that position."

“Not so different then,” Rose smiled, although she wasn’t sure why the idea of having something in common with General Hux was so relieving to her. “Well, immediate needs are covered. Trying to get together a working communications array should be our next task. We sent out distress calls, but obviously no one responded or they’d be here by now. Not sure if the array is broken, blocked, or no one was brave enough to come help.”

"We were blocking their replies," Hux confessed. "We couldn't locate your transmission signal--I assume it wasn't an official one, so it must have been private--but we could scramble the incoming."

"Well, that's a relief. It would have been awful to think that no one cared," Rose replied with a thankful smile. "Well, then the transmission blocker wouldn't still be in effect, right? So all we need to do is fix the communications array and then we can send and receive comms." All of the communications arrays in the place had been damaged, most by a single blaster bolt. She didn't say so, but it looked like the troopers had been ordered to do so just to keep Hux from being able to get off the planet. They didn't plan on Hux and her working together. She had no doubt that together, they could fix at least one of them.

It took much longer than they hoped, however; days, in fact. Despite a concentrated daily focus on repairing the portable long-range comms, it was slow going. The internal damage done to the arrays was more extensive than they appeared on the surface; they had to scavenge parts from several units to patch together a single array, and they were lacking several tools that would have made it an easier and quicker task. When their frustration grew too great, they rested, gathered more supplies, or did limited exploration of the many chambers deeper in the caves.

In some of the deeper caves, they found subterranean waterways; still too briny for drinking without filtration. They discovered small edible fish and crustaceans lived in abundance in it, though; when added to the fungi and scant vegetation growing along the rock walls and water's edge, they were able to extend their food rations.

The power generator was intact and only required minimal repair, and fortunately they didn't use much. Crait had no moon, and one sun: sunset plunged the area into a deep darkness, offset only by dim starlight and reflection of the glittering salt plains outside. Generally, they stayed inside the protective walls of the base, although there was no way to fully seal the gaping molten breach of the front entry. At night, they sheltered within the transports, for privacy and safety. Despite the urgency, they both felt the need for occasional solitude to collect their thoughts and reflect during those first few days.

They had no climate control due to the broken outer door and the lack of fuel. Nor did they have any equipment to warn them if the planet's weather (such as it was) were about to turn on them. Still, Rose could tell the air was getting restless, a growing cloud in the distance obscuring the mountains from view.

A crystal storm. Terrible winds would whip up every grain and flake of crystal salt, fling them around with such force that every bit would be like a shard of broken glass. The transports would keep them safe from the debris, but the temperature drop would be sudden and sharp as well. Rose prepared as best she could by moving crates of rations and water into the transport she'd "claimed". She had no idea how long a storm like this could last; hours, days, weeks, maybe? Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Hux going about his usual routine, apparently unaware of the turning weather.

"Hux," she called, walking over to him. "Best leave that for now. That storm's going to be here any time. We should probably hole up together in my transport."

Hux looked over the external ops and scanner, his expression grim. It could only show a limited view of the salt flats and horizon directly outside: the ground was a dull metallic grey, the sky peppery like static on the display. "It's a pity we don't have an operational deflector shield for that gap; it looks bad. I suggest we take one of the farther transports, though: less likely to be affected." He rose briskly, shutting down the monitors. "I'll power down the control room and secure it as much as possible. Do you need help shifting anything?"

"Nope, I can have everything ready by the time you're done. Just be quick. Storms like that always move faster than you think," she nodded before scampering off to retrieve everything from her transport and moving it over the furthest one, using the repulsor-lift to make quick work of it. By the time she was done, she could hear the wind screaming outside.

"Hux!" she called out, hoping he could hear her and was on his way over. "Come on, before you get shredded!"

Toting a rucksack and a well-worn data pad, Hux hurried down the landing hangar to their sanctuary transport, slamming the ramp switch to seal them in from the stinging crystal onslaught. The transport was snug and cluttered with anything portable and essential they could gather, but there was still enough room for them to move around comfortably enough. The lights were set on reserved low power, and it was almost as dark as being in space, but the roar and moan of the wind around them was a constant reminder of the storm.

Rose rushed over to him, brushing tiny bits of salt and crystal from his shoulders and hair. "Hold still... you don't want anything to drop into your eyes," she assured him when he flinched slightly at her sudden closeness.

"I can tend to that myself," he protested mildly. Even though she was the only one on the planet, it was jarring to be in actual direct contact with her. Perhaps it was precisely because they were alone that made him even more sensitive to the close proximity; it made it feel more intimate somehow.

"It's easier if I do it," she insisted, trying to ignore how soft his hair was now that he'd washed out all of the engine oil or whatever it was that he usually styled it with. Soft, bright, just a hint of curl to it. Even his eyelashes were ginger, framing emerald green eyes. Kriff, why did he have to be so handsome? High cheekbones, glorious hair, beautiful eyes... That was one thing about the First Order; most of them were young; her age or even younger! The Empire had been comprised of a bunch of old codgers; easy to hate old dragons. It was more difficult to hate a bunch of sub-adults and barely-adults who'd never known anything but the First Order.

Before she could stop herself, she withdrew her hands, fingertips skimming gently over his sharp cheekbones.

His expression was filled with confusion, wariness, and something else...an unexpected softness? "Thank you," he muttered before stepping back and dropping his bag near the cockpit alcove. Unconsciously he tugged at his jacket and smoothed back his hair, tracing Rose's ministrations. Dirt and grime were constant on Crait without the continual march of scrubber droids and available sanitary supplies, but Hux had doggedly tried to keep up some level of regular grooming.

Rose felt her cheeks heat and she gladly let him escape, turning her attention quickly to reorganizing the supplies. "I've no idea how long this storm will last, but we have enough supplies for a good long time," she said, shivering slightly as the temperature began to drop significantly outside.

Hux nodded. "There's no getting any signals through that, sending or receiving," he remarked. "I secured as much as I could. There's some protection in most of the base, anyway; most of it should be contained near the door. We'll just have to see how much damage it will sustain." He set up a water kettle to boil. "Nothing to do but wait it out."

She nodded, too. She considered boosting the heat, but decided they could always wrap up in blankets to keep warm if they needed to in order to conserve energy. "I'm going to warm up some of the rations and the leftover mushroom soup from yesterday," she said, not sure why suddenly being in such close proximity to Hux now made her nervous.

"There's no hurry," Hux reminded her. With quick efficiency he produced two steaming mugs, handing one to her and taking the other with him as he sat on the window bench.

"It's the storm. Makes me all jittery," she said, taking the mug and joining him, grateful for the redirection. "We used to have ice blizzards on Hays Minor sometimes. They would close the mines and everyone would stay home. My sister and I always loved it because it meant our mother and father would be home to play with us and give my grandmother a break from looking after us. We'd wear our warmest clothes, even though it was plenty warm in the house. Bundle up under blankets and cha would read to us. Meimei would make hot tea with sugar and cream," she said, leaning back against the frame and curling her legs up comfortably. "What about you? Were there storms like this on your planet?"

"I didn't have much of a home world," Hux declared. Most of the conversations they had during their unintentional exile had been pragmatic, and Hux had never been much for small talk. "Or family life, for that matter." Clutching his mug with both hands for its warmth, he stared through the steam. "I remember the Otomok system, although I wasn't directly involved with the operation on Hays Minor." He lapsed back into silence, unsure if he should continue talking, or why he had brought it up in the first place. They were stuck together, like it or not, for who knew how long, and now in close quarters. Maybe he was just tired of the tension of things unsaid, or maybe it was just that everything beyond their circumstances seemed unreal. He was beyond caring by now.

"Oh, I know you weren't. You're the General. More than that, you're an engineer. There was nothing interesting on Hays Minor from an engineering standpoint. Just base materials," she shrugged. "Not exactly under your immediate purview. You were just trying to rile me up and it worked a little too well."

"Not entirely; I did train the ground troops that were stationed there, after all. Most of the materials mined from Hays Minor was used for weapons development, although not for Starkiller Base; I was more involved with that project at the time. The Otomok Blockade was actually a rather tidy campaign, if I recall; one of our first." Hux sat back. "I fully understand your hatred, Rose Tico, but don't you think it's a tad unfair to place all the blame on the First Order? The New Republic did nothing, offered no defense or aid at all."

"Oh, I don't place the blame squarely on the First Order. I blame the New Republic just as much. They were supposed to protect us and did nothing. We weren't important enough for them to care about, not profitable. Almost as bad as everything I've ever heard about the old Trade Federation. Profit, profit, profit; that's all that matters. That is inexcusable. People are always more important than credits. And the New Republic's sheer apathy is just beyond understanding!" She paused, realizing that she was ranting, and slumped slightly. "Um... sorry. Didn't mean to go off like that."

Hux gave her a doubtful smirk. "Oh, I suspect you'd go off like that at every available opportunity if you could. Must have been exhausting, though, having to fight off two fronts all the time." He took a long sip from his mug.

"Well, it's not like it's just me. Everyone in the Resistance seems to think the New Republic is at least a bit to blame. Hell, get a few drinks in Poe and he'll go off on a three-hour dissertation on their failings," she shook her head. "But that being said, just because the First Order saw an opportunity doesn't mean they should take it. Not when it means killing an entire system and their people."

"The New Republic government has so little regard for the safety of its citizens that they don't even have an official defense force; no military at all, actually! Unlike Chandrilla or Courscant, the Hosnian system--in particular, Hosnian Prime--was chosen specifically because it was a political target, following established military protocol."

"Right..." Rose drawled sarcastically. "Because I'm sure that's a huge comfort to the nine billion innocent people who died along with the Senate. Awesome. That makes it all better."

Hux glared at her. "Please, spare me your irrelevant outrage. This is war. Millions have died for eons, and for far less reasons." He dropped his eyes to the cup he gripped in his hands, struggling for composure. "And probably still are, and will in the future." Hux sighed, setting the empty vessel down on the bench next to him. "This debate is pointless at the moment, isn't it? We don't even know what's going on out there." He waved a hand vaguely toward the ceiling of the transport. "Right here, right now, there's only the two of us. Stuck here on this world, in this ship, together, to wait out this wretched storm. Like it or not, and honestly, I'm not inclined to spend the entire time bickering over ideology."

“Fair enough. Although I think we can both agree that war sucks,” she relented with a smile. He had a point; there was no sense in arguing about something that neither of them could do anything about. Neither of them had any idea as to the statuses of their respective groups. Frankly, even if they did manage to send comms out, there was no guarantee that anyone would answer them. “So, what would you like to talk about, Hux?”

Her polite query made him chortle softly. "Are you really asking me for small talk?" he asked, shaking his head. "Now I know we're doomed. As for war...I've never known anything else." He grew more pensive. "You know, before this, I hadn't given much thought to living any other way."

She blinked in surprise, sincere compassion in her eyes. "Oh... oh, I hadn't thought of that. But, yeah... you were probably born during the Rebellion against the Empire, huh?"

"The same year of the Battle of Scarif," Hux confirmed, "On Arkanis."

"Arkanis," she echoed, mulling it over. "I don't think I've heard much about that planet; just that it's very wet there. Do you remember anything about it? Or were you carted right off onto a starship?"

"I don't know if Arkanis still exists; it was raided and bombarded during the civil war. I don't remember much of it, even so: I was very young when my father and I were evacuated, and I was raised at the Imperial Academy. I didn't go outside much; it was usually raining, I recall."

"Wow, I can't even imagine what it would be like growing up at a school. You were just... left to your own devices? Did you have any siblings? Where were your parents?" Rose asked, very interested in such a different upbringing than her own.

"It was a special arrangement, and no, I was an only child. Brendol Hux, my father, was the commandant of the Academy at the time. And no, I was not 'left to my own devices', I was given an exceptional Imperial education."

"Is that where you learned about your aptitude with mechanics? I mean, any one with dedication can learn to do things by the book. But you go well beyond that. Were you drawn to engineering from the start?" Rose asked, leaning closer, eyes shining with interest. She had never been to a school; her parents and baba had taught both her and Paige.

Hux shifted uncomfortably. "I excelled at the subject, yes. There were several specialized groups at the Academy, two of whom were under my father's direct supervision."

"School must have been so much fun!" she exclaimed, eyes shining. "To have a bunch of children your own age around to play with and learn with! To have a bunch of different teachers around to teach you!"

Hux gaped at Rose's sudden enthusiasm. Her shiny imagined dream of his childhood was the farthest thing from the truth of it. He realized that she had no idea what an Imperial academy was like, especially for a young child who normally would have no business being in such a place; nor did she know what a tyrannical bully his father had been. He never discussed his early life with anyone, and in fact tried to put as much of it as possible behind him. "I suppose you'd think so," he answered slowly, "but it was nothing like that at all. There weren't many children my age in attendance when I arrived, and even later we weren't taught together. I had many teachers while I was there, certainly, but it was a school for officers, not a playgroup. It wasn't fun. It was...brutal."

Her face fell with his explanation. That sounded nothing like what she'd always thought school for young children would be like. "Brutal," she echoed, blinking in confusion. "They were strict, then? Lots of rules and regulations. Like the military, I guess?"

"Of course," he responded, his tone a bit mocking, but with no malice. "We were taught what we needed in order to be excellent officers. It wasn't some perpetual social event with a dash of learning thrown in."

"OK, not fun at all then. That's rough..." she nodded, her expression one of regret despite the fact that she'd had nothing to do with his upbringing. "I'm sorry. No child should have to be treated so rudely. Did you have no-one to turn to? A best friend? A parent? A pet even?"

How could he adequately explain to her how total his isolation was as a child? He didn't bother trying; he just shook his head. "No, no-one."

"Oh, that's... I'm so sorry. That's no way to grow up," she shook her head, reaching out to lay a small hand on his shoulder. "It might be too little too late, but... I'm here if you want to talk about it or just even, you know, take comfort in. Despite my propensity for babbling, I am a good listener. Pretty good hugger too."

"I really feel no desire to reminisce about my life," Hux responded dryly. "I assume you're trying to be friendly, or perhaps it's just our being thrown together here, but believe me when I tell you that we have nothing else in common. Nothing." He fixed her with the full attention of his eyes. "Honestly, I cannot fathom this interest you have in my background, but again, whatever information you've heard--and it seems that you've heard a lot--I daresay most of it is simply false. There's not much point in discussing the truth, either," he added, "as it certainly wouldn't dispel any assumptions you have of who and what I am, anyway." Abruptly he turned his face away, flush with emotion.

"I'm interested because we're here together and we've been adversaries before. And whether we remain friendly or go right back to being adversaries after this, I'd still like to do it with some insight into your personality. There's obviously more to you than just Starkiller and a black uniform. I have no power over you, I have no way of using whatever I know against you either now or later. So, no need to be on your guard that way while we're here," Rose assured him. "Besides... I'm a curious kind of person."

He turned back to face her. "I'm not obligated to satisfy your curiosity about my miserable childhood," he pointed out. "Not even to dispel the obviously ridiculous lies you've been fed...or..or made up...about me. Besides, what if I really am exactly the man you know from Starkiller Base or the Supremacy; what if that black uniform and the First Order are precisely what I am? What sort of insight are you seeking, Tico?"

"I didn't say you had to answer my every question. Just that if you want to, I'm game for it," she shrugged. "You just... you seem..." she struggled to put her thoughts into words that stood a chance of not cutting him to the quick. "It sounds like a lonely way to grow up and that you have a lonely time of it now. That's all."

"I'm not exactly alone here, am I?" countered Hux. "Or can it be you're merely feeling lonely yourself? You've hardly offered any meaningful information about your childhood, or even recent events, I noticed. Trying to distract from your current predicament; being left for dead with the First Order officer who had just ordered your execution, while being cut off from your friends and their poor attempt at escape?" Hux stared up at the ceiling of the transport, listening to the scouring rage of the storm outside. "Have you wondered what happened out there, after we were stranded? What if they aren't coming back, from either side? What if we've just been forgotten?" He shrugged. "In my opinion, loneliness is an asset in this situation."

“Being alone and feeling alone are two different animals,” she pointed out softly, looking down at her hands pensively. And I haven’t offered much in the way of my history because I figure if you wanted to know, you’d ask. The few times that I have said anything about myself, you pretty much ignored it.” She took a deep breath, “Yes, I am lonely. Yes, I am worried about what’s happening and if my friends are OK. But there’s nothing either of us can do about it right now. Yes, it’s frustrating and bothers me. I’m trying to make the best of it, OK?”

"That's the most rational thing I've heard you say since we started this conversation." Hux got up and gathered their mugs. "And so am I. The only difference is, I'm used to it. I sense that you are not."

"No. No, I'm not. Up until... well... the evacuation from D'Qar, I always had my sister to talk to." Rose's voice grew quieter, less energetic. Paige. Had it really been only about a week since Paige had died? It felt like it had been months ago and hours ago at the same time. Her hand strayed to her medallion, rubbing her thumb over the carved surface like the texture would soothe her.

"That explains a lot. You seem very close to your family. Not that I know the feeling; like I said, I don't have any family at all."

"Neither do I... anymore," Rose said before she could consider it. Her throat tightened and she bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. "Paige, she... she was the bomber pilot that brought down the dreadnaught. I don't know what happened... why she didn't fly away once she dropped her payload... but... she's... gone."

Hux went as still as stone for a long moment. "The bomber was heavily damaged during the raid," he answered quietly. "It's assumed to have been on autopilot when it dropped its payload, which it shouldn't have been able to do. It wasn't even supposed to get though our defenses intact in the first place. Many people died then, on both sides. Such are the wages of war."

"There was no functional auto-pilot on the Cobalt Hammer. Something must have happened on the approach, Poe said Paige was the only one who answered her comms. The rest of the crew must have been knocked out or dead from the TIE defense runs. She was the one who managed to open the doors and drop the payload, even though she was the gunner, not the bombardier," Rose explained a bit dully. "After that, I... ran into Finn and then... everything happened. It's weird. I've thought about her practically every minute. But... I keep thinking that I'll see her when I get back to the Resistance. Even though I know she's dead..."

Hux set down the empty mugs. He had felt that illusion often, too, albeit not quite as personally. The immensity of recent losses, from Starkiller Base to the death of Supreme Leader Snoke, was crushing to him. Although he hadn't confessed it to Rose Tico, he hadn't slept well since being stranded there despite his physical injuries and exhaustion. He had never been a sound sleeper, but the nightmares and barely recalled dreams that robbed him of rest were so intense that he considered he was being haunted somehow. "Too much happening in too little time," he sighed. "And for what?"

"Sometimes, I'm not sure. We left Hays Minor wanting to save our home somehow... now there's nothing there to save. We joined the Resistance for... well... vengeance, I guess. Avenge. Revenge. One of those. But it's just so tiring and so... pointless. All of this... won't bring people I've lost back. It won't remake Starkiller into a tool of renewal rather than violence. It won't un-destroy the Hosnian System. It won't bring back fallen soldiers or leaders." She sighed, picking lightly at a callous on her palm. "At what point do any of us just decide that the cost isn't worth the fight anymore?"

"I still believe in the First Order," Hux argued. "I just wonder what will happen to it under Kylo Ren's leadership. Nothing good, I suspect. And your Resistance...it was reduced to nothing right here, despite that spectacle of the supposed Jedi knight Luke Skywalker acting as decoy. Sheer madness!"

"Luke Skywalker was here?" she gasped, eyes widening, her low mood quickly seizing this exciting information. "That means Rey made it back too! They must have been in the Falcon! I wondered who was flying it! Oh, and I missed it! Just my luck," she finished, although she was smiling. "I still believe in the Resistance. I don't think that the First Order is a benevolent force."

"Not surprising, considering your experiences," Hux muttered. Louder, he went on, "Yes, apparently Luke Skywalker was here, although I'm assured that was his last stand. Apparently, the girl from Jakku was flying that decrepit freighter and escaped with your friends when we were sweeping this place." He gave a tired sigh. "Benevolence and malevolence have nothing to do with it; it's just war. Neither side is free of that. We easily could spend our entire time here arguing that point, or we could just...agree to disagree."

"We don't disagree on everything. The New Republic is apathetic and awful. The galaxy does need some order and safety to it. I just don't like how the First Order goes about it, that's all. Fundamentally, I'm on board," Rose shrugged. "Doing away with any kind of military force was beyond dumb."

Hux cocked his head, a small smile twitching across his expression. "Is this how you'd pass the time, before? Talking and debating?"

"Well... yes?" she answered, although it came out like a question. "I find it's a good way to get to know people... and it's useful for coming up with ideas. Hell, we came up with the plan for your tracker just by arguing back and forth about it."

Hux shrugged. Too bad their plan had been unnecessary; in fact, their desperate attempt to execute it had cost the Resistance more lives and nearly ended their own, but Hux chose to not mention that. "I usually rest. Read; do some blaster practice; tend to my pet--" He stopped suddenly, clearing his throat. The bruises had faded and the soreness healed, but he had purposefully chosen not to think about the aftermath of the flagship's destruction, his subsequent abandonment, and in particular about his private possessions. Worrying over the fate of his cat was an unnecessary waste of emotion. Still, he couldn't help hoping that she survived and was being cared for.

"You have a pet?" Rose immediately brightened. "What is it? An akk-dog? A monkey-lizard? A tooka?"

"A cat, a cannus solix."

"Oh, a true cat! I've never seen one in-person. Just holos. What does yours look like? Is it a boy or a girl? Did you train it?" A flurry of questions spilled out, her love of animals overtaking any other interest for the moment.

Discussing pets was an improvement over politics or military tactics, at least. "Millie is female, and her fur is orange. I raised her from birth. Not unusual that you haven't seen one; true cats are bred for their pedigrees only by the galaxy elite, primarily in the Core."

"How did you come by one? I mean, you don't really seem the type to go shopping for a designer pet," she asked, eyes still bright. "Do you have a holo of her on your datapad?"

Hux rummaged through his bag to retrieve one of his data cylinders and took up the datapad. "She was the last of my father's stock; I inherited her, so to speak. He used to breed them." The holo image showed a flame-striped cat, eyes golden bright, long feathery tail flicking lazily back and forth.

"Oh, she's adorable! I hope she's doing OK without you. Maybe one of your sub-officers is taking care of her, I hope?" Rose was genuinely concerned for this furry creature who had been bereft of her caretaker for at least a week now. Maybe it was closer to two? Time was hard to track on Crait.

"There are care arrangements in place for her," Hux assured her. It was oddly touching to witness Rose's concern for his cat's welfare, especially given her opinion of the First Order. "She means a great deal to me. Do you have any pets?"

"I wish. We had an old tooka cat when I was little, but he passed away when I was only six or so, But Paige an I always loved animals. Paige's favorite were fathiers. I liked cats best," she smiled, still gazing adoringly at the holo of Millicent. "You are so lucky. She's a beautiful kitty."

"She is," Hux agreed. He shut down the holo and disconnected the cylinder, returning it to his bag. He sat on the padded platform. "You and your sister were very close," he observed.

"Yeah," Rose nodded. "We were best friends as well as sisters. Never really had much in the way of sibling rivalry or anything like that. We were each other's closest confidantes. We told each other all of our secrets. We did our best to keep our elders from worrying about us." She rose, rolling her sleeves up despite the cool air. If she didn't start on that soup soon, it would be a very late dinner.

Hux lapsed into a pensive silence, wondering what it would have been like to have a sibling like that. In his mind he could see the Resistance bomber drift over the Fulmanatrix, the magnetic cascade of the explosives as they pulled down to the hull of the ship and detonated, while he had watched in shocked disbelief from the deck of the Finalizer. The bomber had vaporized in the resulting firestorm, taking Paige Tico's life together with the entire crew of the Dreadnaught. It was sobering to think that her sister's mourning for her was greater than the First Order's loss of the whole crew.

"The soup should be better this time around. It's had time to deepen its flavor. Won't need as much salt. Although that's the one thing we are not lacking around here," she said as she gathered the bowls she needed and turned on the tiny cooker.

"I'm sure it will be fine," he replied softly. He watched her cook without further comment, merely taking in the unfamiliar domestic comfort of it. Not that Rose was anything remotely domestic, but it was oddly peaceful. For the first time he saw her not as rebel scum, not as an unlikely companion, but as just another person. Oddly he found the thought...unsettling.

For her part, knowing that Hux owned and genuinely cared for a cat made Rose a bit giddy, without quite realizing why. It proved that there was more to him than just to desire to conquer. She stirred the soup, doling it out into bowls and handing one to Hux. "Enjoy. As much as either of us is able to enjoy 'non-toxic edible unidentified’ mushroom soup," she teased.

"At least it's not stale rations," Hux pointed out, with one of his rare smiles, "And it's warm. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she nodded in reply. "Anything that's not stale rations is a welcome change." She took a few sips, the silence, companionable though it was, only made the noise of the storm outside seem louder and more dangerous. "Tell me more about Millie. How old is she? Are you going to breed her? Has she had any kittens before? Does she come when she's called?"

Hux chuckled softly. Not having any siblings or family of any sort, he imagined that Paige had been the older sister, and likely very patient with her curious little sister. "Let me set up some more tea, and I'll tell you more about Millicent," he promised. Talking would probably assist in healing his still slightly bruised windpipe so long as he paced himself, and it was a good way to pass the time.

Armed with fresh mugs of tea, Hux found himself drawn into recounting all the memories of his pet for hours, answering each of Rose's questions in detail. The warm sustenance and muted lighting began to lull them both into a relaxing drowsiness.

Finally, Rose stretched and yawned, reaching behind her head to pull the wire scrap out of her hair, letting it fall free. "It's getting late. We should probably get some rest," she offered, finger-combing through her hair. "One plus about this transport, the platform pads are spacious; plenty of room for us to sleep.”

Hux nodded in agreement, opening up his bag. There was practically no privacy on the transport; just the tiny refresher closet and the cockpit alcove, but he suggested they take turns getting ready for bed. At least there was a soft surface on the platform and enough adequate bedding for comfort.

Rose waited patiently while Hux prepared for bed with a quick visit to the fresher for a sonic shower. It was actually difficult to not sneak a peek at him when he reemerged. He didn't sleep in his uniform, surely... which meant he probably slept in just his undergarments. She'd already been surprised at how slight he was without his gigantic coat. Tall and slender as a whip... just her type. She knew that his stature did not reflect his strength; in working together, she seen him move heavy bits of tech and broken, rusted doors.

"Just, uh, let me know when you're decent," she said, listening to him moving around behind her.

"Done." Clad in a dark shirt and shorts, Hux had folded his outer garments and placed them in a tidy bundle on his bag. He shook out one of the salvaged blankets from storage.

That was way more exposed skin than she'd ever seen on Hux. Pale as moonlight, his skin contrasted delightfully with his fire-bright hair and jade eyes. "My turn," Rose nodded, heading quickly into the sonic before she could embarrass herself. She took off and shook out her jumpsuit, flakes of salt sprinkling to the floor to be sucked up by the sonic. She showered fast, wanting to get under a blanket quick. Despite being born and bred on an ice planet, she'd never quite managed to acclimate to the cold. As soon as she was done, she scampered out in the dark leggings and tank that she'd stolen from the First Order laundry along with her teal Major's uniform.

Wrapping himself in the blanket, Hux settled on a side of the platform pad, leaving room for Rose once she was done. Even without anything else to do, he knew it would be difficult for him to fall asleep, but he was determined to try his best. Mentally he reviewed the inventory of the salvaged stores, hoping the repetition of the roster would assist him to slip into a restful slumber.

Rose hurried to fetch her own blanket and quietly slipped onto the platform bed with Hux. There were other cots, of course, but this was the only proper bed on the transport, meant for getting some sleep while in hyperspace. They didn't even need to argue over who got it. The fact that he'd purposefully left space for her was answer enough.

With the internal lights dimmed low, the flecks of air-blown salt looked like stars outside the portals, as if they were drifting far away from the planet in deep space. As predicted, Hux wasn't able to settle into sleep as soon as he wanted; he lay still, watching the view and listening to Rose's breathing become steady and even. He missed Millie's soft, warm presence and her rhythmic purring, missed the thrum of a ship's engines surrounding him. He wasn't a fool; he knew he could stave off his thoughts for only so long before they would intrude once more no matter how he might try, and Rose's curious questions hadn't helped.

The longer they were together on Crait, the more Hux felt drawn to Rose Tico. It was interfering with his familiar aloofness and objectivity, and it irked him. In particular, there was something about Rose messing about with the cooking that he found disquieting, but he couldn't pinpoint what about it that bothered him so greatly. She had certainly shown herself to be an intelligent, resourceful person, if more talkative than he would have preferred. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed to know--or assumed--more about him than he was comfortable with, or how her relentless questions made him reveal more than he wanted. Worse, if he was to be completely honest, he found her physically attractive; something he had done his utmost not to reveal in any way. So far, he had been successful...while he was awake.

Rose slept only lightly, drawn to the warmth against her back. She turned around in her sleep, cuddling up to Hux's back, her face nuzzled into the back of his neck with a soft sigh. Her arms were curled between them, hands pressed between his shoulder blades.

Hux froze at the unexpected contact before instinctively curling into a ball. For a panicked moment, he wanted to leap up and throw himself onto the bench seats or even the cockpit chairs, anything to avoid physical touching. _Stop being ridiculous_ , he told himself sternly. _You're acting like an infant! Go to sleep!_ Screwing his eyes shut and pulling the blanket in to a tight cocoon around him, he lay as still as possible, forcing his breath to match Rose's slow, even tempo.

Even half asleep, she could feel how tense he was, sliding her hands around him, under his arms, her hands resting over his heart. "Shhh..." she whispered muzzily. "Just relax..." He was so warm, she clung to him closely, rubbing her cheek against the bare skin of his neck like a cat. "You've nice skin," she drowsed before settling once more.

_Sweet stars....!_ Hux wished he could claim to be repulsed or simply uninterested, but he wasn't. The images he had been fighting off for nights bombarded his thoughts: Rose, hands in binders, on her knees on the polished black deck of the Supremacy; her snarling fury at trying to launch herself at the slicer scum who had betrayed her; even the burning hopeless anger of her expression when he gripped her chin and gloated over his triumph...It had been so very potent, that sense of power; so...arousing. Even the merging of pleasure with pain as she seized his finger in her teeth and bit down tortured him, endlessly twisting inside his mind. Hux stifled a whimper, willing his body to stop its involuntary response by thinking of anything but the gentle breath on the nape of his neck and the hands pressed to his chest.

He tried to think of Millicent, of how small and helpless she had been as a kitten. How he had stolen her from the lab after Brendol Hux had been disappointed with results of the litter, hiding her in his own quarters in defiance. He knew that no-one would suspect him of caring for a kitten, stubbornly nursing her to health and tending to her needs, least of all his father. It was an act of petty rebellion on his part; he needed to do it, if only to prove that he could. Millicent was his and his alone; the only living creature he felt any attachment toward. She was a survivor, that cat, just like he was; she had to be all right. It was as good as any for him to survive, too: he would get back to the First Order; he would find Kylo Ren, and he would kill him.

Yes, Kylo Ren was an excellent target for Hux's ire. How he hated that man! Everything that had happened could be traced to that usurper, that pretender to the First Order leadership. From the moment Snoke brought Kylo Ren into the fold of the First Order and elevating him above all of their ranks, Hux had seen him as a rival. Together with his Knights of Ren, he had paraded about and distracted the Supreme Leader with this quest to find and destroy the last Jedi, Luke Skywalker, when Hux thought the legendary hero's sister, Leia Organa, was a more significant--and potentially dangerous--target. Even after her fall from grace and expulsion from the New Republic senate hadn't stopped that woman from leading a new rebellion, this Resistance, against the advance of the First Order. Hux had no doubt that Ren was insane; he was incapable of controlling himself, let alone anyone else. Most of Hux's existence had been under the shadow of such violent creatures, and he had no intention of letting that continue. It was intolerable; he simply wouldn't allow it. Kylo Ren needed to die, no matter what else happened.

Rose, by contrast, had lapsed into dreaming, the warmth of the man in her arms segueing along with her. Even the scent of his skin invaded her sleeping mind. She could see him above her, all ivory pale skin and bright hair, those jade eyes almost black with desire. Desire for her. She whispered his name, which made him smile slightly. He crooned hers, deep voice caressing around the single syllable like warm fur on naked skin. She shivered, opening her arms to him, welcoming him, mouths meeting with a soft cry on her part, a low growl on his. She could feel his hands on her breasts, long fingers squeezing and caressing the soft flesh, making her gasp and whimper softly, her hips already arching up to him. She wanted to feel him, to see if he was as aroused as she was. Her sex was slick and hungry for him; his mouth, his fingers, his cock, whatever he cared to give her.

Unfortunately for her, none of those was forthcoming. She awoke in the dim light, curling tightly against the warm body against her. At first, she was only aware of the departure of her dream, one she'd had far too many times in recent days. Apparently, her sex drive paid little heed to the inappropriateness of lusting after General Hux. Why the fuck was she so damn attracted to someone who'd killed billions of people only a week or two ago?

It was just rude to be that handsome. Honestly. Just plain rude. But the memory of being on her knees in front of him, those elegant fingers curled under her chin... fueled far too many sexy dreams and, if she was honest with herself, masturbation sessions. Kriffing hell. He was arrogant and cruel and smug and...

And...

And she was currently plastered against his back, arms around him, one hand over his gently-beating heart and the other just skimming the collar of his shirt. Her fingertips instinctively sought out skin, tracing along his collarbone. Such soft skin...

Oh kriff no. No. No. Nope!

As quickly and sneakily as she could, she managed to extricate herself from Hux's back and the bed, scampering around the corner to the fresher. She pressed her back to the wall, hand over her mouth, listening intently for any noise from Hux. Nothing. Just the soft sound of his breathing. She peeked around the wall separating the fresher from the bed alcove. He was curled on his side, one hand laying limp by his face. Relaxed with sleep, he looked ridiculously young, maybe in his mid-twenties rather than his mid-thirties. Damn it all, why was he so fucking hot?

Hux shifted in the blanket that cocooned him from his shoulders down, changing position, as if he sensed she had left. There were still dark smudges under his closed eyes, but he looked almost peaceful, with his face relaxed and slack in slumber, his hair uncharacteristically a tousled flame-colored nest.

_That's HUX_ , Rose reminded herself. _General Hux. From the First Order, from Starkiller Base. He's a monster, evil; the enemy, everything wrong and rotten in the galaxy._ She groaned. _And now that I know him, as a person; a real, living person...I can't bring myself to hate him! Oh, Rose, this is bad. Very, very bad._

She could practically hear Paige berating her, _Oh come on, Rosey Posey. He's still just a man. He's not the root of all evil. Besides, he's all but confirmed that he was molded into what he is by other evil people. You'd be good for him! Just show him how to be a person instead of a warlord. There's hope for him! He has a cat for kriff's sake!_

Annoyed with herself, Rose turned on the sonic and got in for yet another sonic. Under normal circumstances, she might also indulge in a little self-pleasure, but with the subject of her lust sleeping just a few feet away, she did not feel brave enough to chance it.

Hux shifted again, turning in his sleep. "Rose?" he murmured groggily, squinting in the low light. She wasn't on the pallet, her blanket thrown aside but her spot next to him still warm. He sat up. "Tico?" He didn't remember falling asleep, but he felt more rested than he had for some time...how long had they slept?

The storm seemed to have lessened somewhat, but it was still too strong to venture out of the transport. Dialing up the lights, Hux checked the chrono and discovered that he had actually slept for quite a while. It wasn't difficult to locate Rose occupying the refresher; he hoped that she had also been able to sleep. Hux ran a hand over his hair to smooth it down, and he absently scratched at his jaw, eager to rid it of the stubble.

Rose heard Hux moving about and prayed very quietly that she did not talk in her sleep. Re-dressing in the black tank top and re-donning the First Order pants she still had; she vacated the fresher. 

"Morning," she said in a slightly tense voice, trying like hell not to ask if he had any idea about what she'd dreamed or that she'd apparently snuggled up to him in her sleep.

" 'Morning," he replied. "Sleep well?" He made his way past her, heading toward the 'fresher. He considered growing a beard for time being, but thought that might be too lax for his taste. He disliked facial hair; it reminded him too much of his father.

"Um, yeah," she answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. She saw him rubbing his fingertips over his now rough chin. "Ever thought of just growing a beard? You'd look good with one, I bet."

Really? She was offering him grooming tips? Really?

"Only since I got here," he answered. "I prefer being clean shaven, but it's difficult to maintain under the circumstances." He had glanced at her as he passed, noting her clothing before quickly looking away. _Don't start that again_ , he warned himself, even if she did look good freshly cleaned and in parts of the First Order uniform. He needed caf, if there was any to be had, or tea at the very least.

"I won't tell anyone if you skip shaving for the time being," Rose said, trying to brush off her lingering nervousness with some light teasing. "I'll get some caf going for us. You like yours black, right?"

"Yes," he confirmed. He was quick with his morning routine, even with deciding to continue shaving. He thanked her for the caf when he returned, stationed himself at the bench seat, and sipped from the steaming mug, lost in thought.

Still a bit jittery, Rose dulled her caf with milk powder and sugar, sitting on the opposite bench and curling her legs under her. This was going to be a really long day if she didn't find something to occupy herself besides sneaking glances at Hux and trying not to let on about her desire.

After watching Rose putter about the transport, Hux felt compelled to ask, "Are you all right, Tico?"

Rose flinched. Was it that obvious? "Sure. Yes. Why do you ask?" she stammered.

"You've been much quieter this morning," he observed. "Are you sure you got enough sleep?"

"Oh, yes. Certainly. Slept...really well." She shifted uncomfortably, not risking a look at him.

"You're a terrible liar," Hux commented. He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees. "What's wrong? Something I said yesterday?"

“No, no, nothing you said or did. I’m just jittery. Um, had some weird dreams,” she relented slightly, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. “I’ll be fine. I just need something to do, you know? I’m not used to being idle.”

"Oddly enough, I actually did sleep--unusual, for me." Hux nodded in understanding. "This storm is unrelenting," he said, looking out the windows. "We just need to be patient, that's all. That being said," he went on, "I understand your feeling: far too much thinking, not enough doing. Shall we discuss what's our next move?"

"Sure," she nodded. "At least one of us is good at being patient. I've never been. What do you have in mind?"

"We've been focused on getting the comms and transmissions operational, but isn't our objective to get off world, not just reestablish contact?"

"Yes, that's true. Are you suggesting we switch gears and try to get one of these heaps space-worthy? Try to scrape together some fuel? None of these things has hyperdrive. Only the shuttle does and that's probably the least space-worthy of them all. But..." she drifted off, considering. "If we manage to get even one of the transports working enough to get out of orbit, there's still tons of debris from the Supremacy up there. Maybe we could scavenge enough pieces to get the shuttle up and working. The six transports combined might have enough fuel for that to work..."

"Exactly! Not only that, but there might still be other functional shuttles out there, with intact hyperdrives and comm ops," Hux added. "We haven't found any sign of retrieval or salvage activity since we got here; for whatever reason, the debris field seems as abandoned as this base. If we have any chance of escaping, I believe this will be it. Besides, sooner or later, that wreckage's orbit will decay, and if we think this storm is damaging..."

"Mm, good point. The debris will eventually be pulled onto Crait and rain destruction down on us," she nodded. "It's definitely worth a shot. No one's come back for you by now, so it's safe to say they aren't coming back."

"But didn't we take the last shuttle from the Supremacy? All of the others were destroyed in the hangar... and even if we do do this, then what? Do I get to be your prisoner again? Will the execution order still stand?" It bothered her greatly that Hux might revert right back to being the vicious creature he'd been in the Supremacy's hangar.

"Six other star destroyers were lost with the Supremacy," Hux informed her. "Hopefully there will be at least one ship still intact among them. After that...a great deal will depend on what's happened with the war in the interim. I think we can safely say, however, that there will be a stay of execution in your case." A small smile quirked on his face, and quickly vanished. "Once I get off this planet, my focus will be on primarily one thing."

"Getting back to your precious First Order even though they left you here?" she ventured, slightly sarcastically, though in a more friendly manner than usual. "I'm curious what your goal is now since galaxy-wide domination seems out of the question."

Hux's grim determination was frightening in its intensity. "I'm going to kill Kylo Ren."

Well, of all of the things that she might have expected to come out of his mouth, that was not one of them. "Kill Kylo Ren?" she echoed. "So... um... welcome to the Resistance? I think I have that authority..." she said lightly, a bit concerned by this sudden dark turn in his mood.

Hux blinked, realizing just how mad he sounded. Now that he thought about it, he could see how Rose could interpret his intention as turning traitor. "I'm not joining the Resistance," he insisted. "But having Kylo Ren as Supreme Leader is intolerable."

"Then you have that in common with the Resistance," she pointed out. "So... tell me... when you retake the First Order from him, what will you do without Snoke to order you around? What's the plan?" He gave her a pointed look and she raised her hands in innocence. "I'm not asking for intel. I just want to know what your manifest will be. How you intend to achieve it."

"First things first," Hux cautioned. "Although, I appreciate your confidence in my ability to achieve my goal. What about your plans? Given any thought to your future after we escape?"

"Not really. Not beyond finding my friends. General Organa did sort of appoint me chief engineer... but that was mostly due to lack of other options at the time. I'm really just a mechanic," she shrugged.

"You underestimate your talents. 'Just a mechanic' would not have grasped the significance of our ability to track ships through hyperspace, or how to sabotage it." Hux sat back. "I'm not completely ignorant of who you are, Rose Tico; I know of your family's role during the Otomok Blockade--I believe you and your sister were personally responsible for blowing up a dozen OreDiggers and disrupting mining activities for three days. So, you see, I was affected by your actions on Hays Minor, long before you were captured on the Supremacy."

Rose looked up in surprise. "You know about that?" she asked, aghast. Well, that would explain him needling her on the Supremacy. And why their parents had hustled her and Paige off of Hays Minor. If General Hux knew about her, then the First Order certainly would have come for them if they hadn't fled when they had. " ‘Draw a little blood with a bite now and again’…" she echoed his words. "You meant that directly."

"Yes. I remind you again that the First Order is not the Empire. I know you might not believe me, but we aren't in the habit of decimating sources of valuable materials or populations in general; if anything, the New Republic was already doing that without our interference. Despots like Kylo Ren are the very embodiment of the Empire's failures and the Republic's corrupt decadence; they have no place in the galaxy's future. They are why the Emperor created a contingency in the first place."

Rose sighed softly, "Don't tell me what it's not; tell me what it is!" she implored. "What is this contingency plan? I mean, honestly, if the Emperor came up with it, I’m fairly sure that the rest of the galaxy won't be on board with it." She uncurled her legs, shifting in her seat. "I grew up under the New Republic; we were pretty much ignored by them. Frankly, we were kind of content to be ignored. Until you guys showed up, we were fine. We could breathe our own air, you know? We had our Senator and voice. Yes, the New Republic is a bit of a joke, but we were happy. Then you guys with your ambition and greed and hunger for power just destroyed it all. Why? What did you get out of taking us apart? And how long will keep grabbing and destroying everything in your way; when you finally are at the top with nothing but ashes around you? Then what? What about life? What about love? What about everything that makes life worth it?"

Hux paced around, agitated. "Do you really not see how the First Order will only benefit the entire galaxy? We are an organized, unified entity, not a mob of self-serving corrupt politicians and petty criminals. The New Republic was nothing more than the illegitimate heirs to the Empire, started by rebel traitors that seized control when the Emperor died! The Hosnian Senate was a failure, divisive, and ineffectual; they couldn't stop quarreling long enough to establish proper law and order, or even defend its member systems!"

"You didn't answer my questions," Rose replied quietly.

Hux swung around, mid-stride. "What?"

"You can't win by fighting everything you hate." It was a simple statement, one that Rose sincerely lived by. "Believe me, I know. I've been fighting and hating for a long time. But you can't win that way. So, what about freedom? What about love? What are you really fighting for, Hux?"

She wasn't being confrontational; Rose sounded...sad, perhaps, or genuinely confused, and Hux felt she deserved a sincere answer. It was just that he hadn't really thought like that before, so he didn't have a ready answer. For power, control, status? Conquest, domination? Legitimacy? Or was it something more basic, like survival. Existence. "I don't know," he admitted at last. "I never thought to question it."

"Maybe it's time you did. I mean...I pretty much know what I want once the fighting is done with. I just want a simple life with a family and pets and maybe a workshop or something where I can fix things for credits. I'm not looking for some kind of paradise or to be a big fish in a small pond. I want love and life and enough creativity to keep myself sane. What is it that you want; a chestful of medals and some kind of crown?"

His first thoughts were: 'I want to win. I want to survive. I want to prove myself worthy and successful. I want to triumph!' The second thought was 'I want vengeance.' None of these thoughts were ones he wished to share with Rose, however. "I-I don't know," he repeated.

"Born in war..." Rose sighed softly, rising to her feet and drawing closer, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Think about it. What is your goal for your own self? Not for the First Order. Not for the grander picture. Just for you."

Hux closed his eyes, one hand reaching up to cover hers. He looked pained. "Don't," he rasped, pulling away. Wordlessly he retreated to the transport cockpit, slumping into one of the seats.

Rose wasn't sure what that reaction was, but she understood the need for some privacy after such a probing set of questions. There was just something so tragic about him. She didn't know how, but she recognized a lurking pain behind his eyes. There was more to General Hux than a big coat and a snooty accent.

Leaving him to himself, she set about making them some late breakfast. Among the newer rations were dried strips of meat that she figured she could cook in a sauce to tenderize them. Flour, fat, and salt went a long way to make just about anything palatable. Arranging the meat and sauce in a bowl and adding another rehydrated puff bun, Rose slipped into the alcove next to Hux, silently offering him the food.

Hux took the hot bowl without comment, cradling it in his hands gingerly. There were two high spots of color on his cheeks, and his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. He coughed, clearing his throat. "Too much thinking," he quipped with a wan expression. He gestured with the bowl. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem," she shook her head, waving off his thanks this time. They had fallen into something of a routine with her taking care of the food and him being more likely to clean up afterwards. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, keeping the offer very open. Had he been just about anyone else, she would have just gone ahead and given them a hug... and maybe a kiss, considering how attracted she was to this stupidly complicated man.

"You know, it's an odd thing," Hux remarked. "I don't recall ever being asked that. You're the first." Hux stared at the bowl. "I was born in war; I was literally raised in the military. Only...I shouldn't have been born at all."

"Shouldn't have been born at all?" She repeated with a quizzical look. "What does that mean? Of course, you should have been born. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

"No, I wouldn't be, and that would have suited my father well. I'm a bastard; illegitimate--the result of an illicit affair of his. And his only offspring and heir." He frowned. "He made his opinion on my existence quite clear, often. He hated me. Of course, I hated him just as much."

"Hated you? But, why? As his only child, he should have cherished you. That you were a bastard child was his fault, not yours. I don't understand how he could hold it against you," she shook her head in saddened disbelief. "What about your mother? Surely, she must have loved you. If she hadn't wanted you... well... it's not all that difficult to end a pregnancy."

"I never knew my mother; I was separated from her when I was an infant. I was told--constantly--that she was of an inferior station. she hid her pregnancy and birth from him until it was too late; but eventually, as his only offspring, he was publicly forced by Arkanis law to acknowledge me as his."

"My father, Brendol Hux was an ambitious and successful Imperial officer, starting as a comms junior officer in the Grand Army of the Republic, during the Clone Wars. He witnessed the beginning of Empire, the destruction of the Jedi Order, the defeat of the Separatists, the start of the Rebellion, all of it. He was part of the transition of the GAR into the Imperial Army, when the clones were replaced. He was a trusted officer at the highest level of the Imperial military elite; due to his experiences and long service, the Emperor appointed him as commandant over the Arkanis Imperial Academy. It was a great honor and huge responsibility, and he used it to develop his own methods and groups within the ranks. He was secure in his position in the Empire...or was, until the scandal of siring a bastard child became public. So you see, I was secreted away and raised in that school so he could control the damage done, in hopes that the matter be forgotten."

"I was born into war, as you said. I never experienced what you know as a family life; I was tended to by a nanny droid programmed to provide for my physical needs; I was educated and eventually trained at the Academy to be a model soldier, or so my father intended. I failed to live up to his high standards: according to him, I was too weak and emotional to succeed as a warrior. I lacked charisma and commitment. I wasn't worthy or special in any way." Hux clenched his jaw in bitterness. "I hated him, and the life he forced me to live. He was wrong, and I knew he was; all I had to do was survive and wait for a chance to show them all. And then the Empire fell."

"A year after the Battle of Endor the so-called New Republic forces bombed us during the Siege of Arkanis. We narrowly escaped; my father and I were escorted off-world by Grand Admiral Rae Sloane, under the direction of Fleet Admiral Gallius Rax. We joined the Imperial Fleet--those that remained--in the Vulpinus Nebula. My father had lost everything; all his precious cadets, his status, our home world; all of it. Rax offered him a chance to get it back, and he had great plans for me, although I didn't know it then. We were sent to Jakku, where my father picked up where he had left off, training more cadets. He was worse than ever toward me; likely I was only there because Rax had ordered me to be brought along. But on Jakku I could avoid him more easily than on Arkanis, and he wasn't popular among the Imperial military there. I watched my father become the sniveling sycophant I always knew that he was during the Battle of Jakku; in a sense he was a broken man, but still very dangerous."

"Brendol wasted no time in attempting to secure his position in this new order: he trained his new cadets to be a death troop and assassins. I personally witnessed them massacre the stormtroopers on Jakku. That was when Rax told us of the Emperor's Contingency; he urged us not to mourn the loss of Arkanis as it would have been destroyed by Operation Cinder, anyway. Rax was a zealot; one of the Imperials who believed the Emperor had planned for the possibility of the Empire's fall. We had been chosen, according to Rax, to build a new empire; to begin again, and get it right this time. There were other Chosen, an Imperial remnant, waiting for us in the Unknowns; that was where the Empire would be reborn--with Rax as our new emperor. My father swore his loyalty to that madman; he would have given him anything to regain what he had lost on Arkanis. But it was then, during the Battle of Jakku, that I was given my first command; ironically over the very cadets my father had personally trained. It was a... validating experience." Hux paused, looked at the bowl he still held as if just noticing it, and began picking at the now-cooled contents.

Rose listened quietly, increasingly horrified by the bleakness of his early life. All the gods and goddesses, no wonder he was the way he was. Weak and emotional were two words she would never apply to Hux. Quite the opposite, really. Even now, he was recounting all of this with a dispassionate sort of tone. "Hux..." she whispered his name, taking the seat opposite him, scooting forward to cup his hands in hers around the bowl. "You poor thing... " She raised one hand, smoothing his hair back gently.

Hux stopped eating with a frown. "I don't want your pity," he muttered. "I'm not pitiful." He set down the bowl on the dash between them. "I just...I want you to understand. Whatever you thought you knew of me, or of my life...What I just told you is the truth. That's all I've ever known."

"It's not pity. It's compassion. Pity implies that I think I'm somehow better than you. I'm not." She shook her head. "There is so much more than that to life. If you were born the same time that the First Death Star was used and destroyed, then you were only, what, nine during the battle of Jakku? And you've known nothing but military before or since. That's no way to be." Her hand slid from his hair to cup his jawline. "Other than your cat, have you known any comfort or sweetness at all? A best friend? A girlfriend? Boyfriend? Any kind of lover?"

Hux snorted. "We were too occupied with surviving in the Unknowns for romantic entanglements. I told you, Rax was insane: even before we embarked for the Unknowns, he killed the Jakku stormtroopers, the members of his Shadow Council other than Brendol, and attempted to murder Grand Admiral Sloane. I was the leader of those child-soldiers, and I was Brendol Hux's son. Who among them could I befriend? The grand admiral and I did form an alliance of sorts, during the trip to the Unknowns, for our mutual protection. Sloane had eliminated Rax during his assassination attempt on her, and taken control in his place, but she wasn't mad like Rax had been. She was a true Imperial, and was determined to fulfill the mandate of the Emperor's Contingency by leading us through the Unknowns, but like the other officers, had a great deal of animosity toward my father. Her distrust was well-founded: he tried to strangle her with his bare hands during the journey. Fortunately for me, she responded by beating him into submission, made him pledge himself to her service, and ordered him to never mistreat me again. In exchange for this protection, she was safe from any attacks from my soldiers. But it wasn’t friendship. For the remaining months of our journey, we trained in combat maneuvers. There wasn't time for friendships, even if it had been appropriate. It was just a continuation of the Imperial Academy, only now I was a top student, overseeing my own troop."

"What about now? You've been a top officer for a long time. Surely somewhere along the way there was someone you felt you could confide to or at least be relaxed around," she said, eyes growing more and more concerned. She shifted ever closer to him, drawn in by his matter-of-fact recount of his loveless childhood. Knowing he'd never been touched in kindness only strengthened her need to touch him. Not just for the sake of lust and attraction now, but for the sake of kindness and humanity now.

"One of my soldiers served as personal guard to my father and me for a time; Phasma was my closest officer, perhaps, but neither of them could be called a friend. Fraternizing with the troops was taboo, of course; it was strongly discouraged even among officers. Not that it didn't happen, certainly, but never openly." Hux grimaced. "The Imperial officers were aware of my father's scandal, and likely passed that gossip to their offspring in the ranks. No doubt there was some talk of nepotism, too, but few would be so bold or foolish to seek out the attentions of their superior's bastard, anyway.”

"Where is your father now? He's not still assigned to the same star destroyer as you, is he?” she asked, now absently rubbing her fingers along his recently smoothed jawline.

"My father is dead," Hux informed her, somewhat smugly. "Officially he had departed on a secret mission into parts unknown. The truth is he died from an unidentified malady several years ago." Rather than recoil as he had before, Hux did nothing to stop Rose's touch.

"Pretty sure you didn't mourn his loss much, if at all," Rose noted. "So you have no one. It just seems like such a bleak existence. If you were anyone else, I'd give you a hug... but, I'm not sure if you'd like that..." she bit her bottom lip, looking at him questioningly.

"I'm not abhorrent of physical contact, if that's what you mean. On the contrary, I take great pleasure in it." He leaned closer, almost teasingly. "With consent. On my own terms."

"Well then, would you consent to being held? By me?" she asked, her cheeks heating up. She wasn't even sure why she was blushing, not sure why she felt like she was being toyed with a little bit. Not maliciously, she sensed, but someone as complex as Hux was never going to be an open book.

"I would, so long as it's because you want to, not out of compassion or pity, or my bleak upbringing or poor, sad childhood," he answered. "And no biting," he added, with a mischievous glint in his green eyes.

"I wanted to long before you told me your background,” Rose confessed. “It really is just rude how handsome you are," she exclaimed, her cheeks turning even pinker. Before she could lose her nerve, she rose, pulling him to his feet before her, and slid her arms around his slim torso. Their height difference worked to their advantage, her head leaning against his chest, tucked under his chin.

Rose could feel Hux relax into her hug with a soft sigh, letting her embrace him. He said nothing, did nothing; he just let her hold him without resistance, letting her listen to his strong, steady heartbeat. It was unexpectedly tender, and most certainly intimate.

"You can hold me back... if you like," she offered, shoulders aching to be embraced in turn. Kriff, he even smelled good! Somehow, he elevated the scent of the soap they both shared to something masculine and enticing. Under his clothes, he was all firm muscle and tendon, ribcage expanding and contracting with his breath in a way that somewhat reminded her of the fathiers at rest; all elegance and power.

Hux slowly returned her embrace, arms completely encompassing her. He was so unnervingly gentle and graceful, so carefully attentive to each minute nuance of their shared touch. Motionless for a long moment, Hux rested his cheek on top of her head with another quiet sigh.

That soft sigh gave Rose further courage, tightening her hold on him ever so slightly. She shifted, tilting her head up and pressing a soft-lipped kiss to the underside of his jaw, reasoning that he could easily pull away from her if he didn't want the caress.

Hux lifted his head to look at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, eyes bright and searching. Then he leaned down and kissed her, lips pressed firmly to hers.

Rose moaned softly into his kiss, hand sliding up into his hair, fingers carding through the soft strands. His lips were tender against hers, but still maintained the authority of the man. Her insides twisted low in her belly, a clench between her legs that made her gasp.

Hux's heartbeat was speeding up as he continued to kiss her again and again. His hands slid against her shoulders, keeping her closer, urging her to match him with increasing passion.

"Hux," she gasped his name, breaking the kiss to take in a deep breath of air. He responded with a low growl, bending his head to kiss along her throat. The sensation slid through her with liquid heat as she let her head list back, allowing him to do as he wished.

"Armitage," he said between kisses. "My name is Armitage."

"Armitage," she amended breathlessly, briefly thinking that the name suited him perfectly; high-class, intelligent. All rational thought eluded her when he captured her mouth again, this time deepening the kiss with his tongue. Blindly, she pressed him backwards until he tumbled back into the pilot's seat. Panting, eyes darkened with want, she lost no time in straddling him and returning to kiss him with a low sound of want.

He groaned, echoing her desire. His hands slid around her back to her waist and hips, reaching beneath her thighs to hold her in place while he continued to pepper her face and neck with kisses. Desperate need grabbed him, making him pant. "Rose," he whispered, gripping her sides and urging her up. "Not here. On the platform...Let's--"

"-get to the bed," she finished for him, pulling back just enough so that he could stand, hands entwining with his. Together, they made their way back to the little alcove where they'd slept. Once there, Rose released his hands to pluck meaningfully at his shirt, looking up at him for permission.

He gave a curt nod, lifting his arms for her to remove it, mirroring the request toward her own top. Clothing was shed and cast aside as they crawled onto the bed pad.

Rose resisted the urge to curl her arms around herself. She was no elegantly slim creature. True to her upbringing and culture, she was round in every sense; round hips, round breasts, round arse, soft arms and thighs, convex belly. From what she'd seen, practically everyone in the mainstream found tall, slender women to be the height of beauty. This included, of course, the First Order. However, she was a woman; and she was relatively certain that no man would turn down a naked woman in his bed. Not even the exacting General Hux.

Armitage, she reminded herself firmly. He was no General here. And he had kissed her on the mouth first. Even now, he was breathing hard, bright green eyes almost fully blown black, his cheeks pink with lust. He wanted her. And she wanted him. _Don't complicate this, Rosey Posey._

"Rose," Hux said, his voice low and breathy, almost reverent, "you are beautiful..." She looked warm, and soft, and inviting, shyly sitting on the platform as if she wondered what he would do next. To have Rose there, real, looking at him with the same desire that he felt--it was so much better than any of his fantasies. He had never wanted anyone so much as he wanted Rose Tico in that very moment.

She would have blushed if she hadn't already been red-cheeked. "So are you," she whispered, reaching out to caress her fingertips along his collarbone and then down the middle of his chest. Her eyes, however, ventured lower. If she had wondered if perhaps, he'd been compensating for something with the monstrous size of Starkiller Base, all concern was summarily dismissed. He was long and thick, his cock jutting from a nest of ginger hair. She licked her lips and let her hand drift lower, carefully tracing him from root to tip. "You're... large..." she murmured; a hint of her surprise evident in her tone.

Shuddering with anticipation at her touch, he fought the impulse to close his eyes and let his head fall back. "Is that bad?" he asked. He wanted her so much, he felt that every cell in his body was humming. Patience, he told himself.

"Not at all," she assured him with a smile, leaning in to resume kissing him. "You're perfect, Armitage," she whispered between kisses.

He needed no further encouragement. Urging her to move up and lie down, he crawled in next her. They lay side by side, facing each other this time. He traced over the curves of her side with one hand, the other propped under his head, and kisses her again and again.

She moaned softly into his kisses, rocking her hips unconsciously, her cunt absolutely aching to be filled. She rolled onto her back, pulling him with her so that his hips were cradled between her thighs. She crooned his name once more, drawing him down into a deep kiss, hands gliding all over his shoulders and sides and back. She distantly noted that there were thin, long scars across his back, thin ridges against his otherwise soft skin.

Bracing himself on his forearms, he capped her breasts, fingers rippling over her nipples like waves. As they hardened, he leaned down, drawing one, then the other, between his lips to suckle her, alternating his attention. Between her legs, he was pressed hard against her, the wet heat making him want to plunge into her depths.

One hand clung to his shoulder, the other cupped the back of his head, encouraging him in his ministrations. "Gods... Armitage..."she moaned, rocking her hips up to him. "Please... please... I need you..." she keened, giving up all pretense of being in control of herself. She'd never wanted a man so intensely in her life!

He moved back to kneel between her open thighs. He held himself steady with one hand while touching her with his other, noting with some satisfaction that she was slick and ready for him. While it would have been a relief to simply shove his full length into her, he made it last, easing in with an exquisitely slow pace until he was seated deep within her.

Rose clung to him tightly, curling her legs up and parting them as widely as she could, giving him unfettered access. She whimpered as he slid home, filling her so completely that she all but saw stars. Once he was fully sheathed, he stilled, his shoulders shaking. She pressed breathless kisses to his lips. "You OK?" she asked, wondering why he'd paused.

He nodded. "Want to make it last," he gasped. "You feel amazing." His hand that was touching her stroked in persistent spirals, above where he had entered her. He began to move; small gentle glides at first, gradually building with each circling of his thumb. He could only do this for so long before the pace would increase beyond his control.

"So do you; so big and thick," she whined softly, rocking her hips into his thrusts. "Kriff..." she swore as he pulled almost fully out and slid back in, the stroke so slick that it took her breath away. The first touch of his fingers against her clit made her jump and cry out, soft little sex clenching around him hard. "Ar-Armitage!" she stammered his name.

"Close," he hissed, increasing his frenzied pace. "Oh! Oh, Rose!" he exclaimed as climax rushed and seized him, pleasure flooding through him as he burst in waves.

The first heat of his seed inside of her sent her into a tailspin, her own orgasm rolling through her as she clung to him. "Fuck! Armitage!" she all but screamed as the first pulses of sheer pleasure squeezed her cunt around him, keeping him in place. She instinctively curled her legs around his waist the hold him fast, embracing him in every possible sense of the word. Even as the passion began to ease, she moaned and whispered to him, praising him with each shaky breath. Telling him how beautiful and brave and smart he was with each undulation and involuntary moan.

Their lustful cries began to subside, and Hux carefully extracted his hands to lean forward, resting on top of her body as he began to soften. He was trembling with emotion, feelings colliding in a jumble in his brain, followed by a sated and contented exhaustion. That was far more pleasure than he had ever experienced before, and he knew that he would long for it. When he was fully able to withdraw, he rolled onto his side and draped his arm over Rose in a languid hug.

Rose curled closely to him, pulling the blankets over them. They fit together so perfectly, legs entwined and wrapped in each other's arms as though they were made for each other. He was long and lithe and she was petite and round, he was hard where she was soft. Sublimely meant to be.

"You are amazing," she whispered against the damp skin of his neck, pressing a soft kiss there.

Hux smiled a blissful sleepy smile. He took her chin in his fingers, tracing her lips tenderly. "So are you," he whispered.

They drifted off, locked together beneath the covers.

Rose awoke hours later, the quiet outside letting her know that the storm had finally ended. Yet, she had very little desire to leave the bed and the deliciously warm body of her lover. Hux was still dozing comfortably, face lax in slumber, snoring very softly. She smiled, looking up at his handsome face, perhaps even more attractive now that he was not scowling at anything. She shifted carefully and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, which made him purr softly and hold her all the more tightly.

"Rose..." he whispered before he was even truly awake and aware. Once he was, he gifted her with a rare, sweet smile. "Mm, storm's over," he commented before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Seems like," she agreed. "We don't have to get up right away, do we?"

"It's the middle of the day, sweetling. We can't just sleep the day away," he protested, by with very little force behind it.

"Did you just call me 'sweetling'? That is adorable!" she exclaimed happily, pleased beyond reason that he had used a pet name for her.

He blushed, pink blooming on his pale cheeks, "Well... yes, I did. I don't even remember where I've ever even heard that word... is it... all right?"

"Of course! I love it!" she assured him. "I'll have to think of a good one for you."

"Honestly, just calling me by my first name is sweet as it is. No one calls me that. No one but you," she reminded her.

"We do have to get up...eventually," he continued. "We have a responsibility to try to escape from here, to find out what's happening in the war, and rejoin our separate sides, if they still exist. Eventually." He looked down at her, nestled in his arms. "Soon. Not just yet."

She whined in her throat at the idea of simply going their separate ways. "Your goals are more in line with the Resistance than the First Order. Kill Kylo Ren. Bring Order to the galaxy. That's what I want too. If you go back to the First Order, they might kill you." Her eyes stung at the very idea of Hux alone and vulnerable within the hierarchy of the First Order once more.

"I won't be alone. I'll keep in contact with you. It can be done. Encrypted channels, secured comlinks and datapads. No one will know about you and I," he insisted.

"What are you going to do? Spy for us?" she asked lightly, then realized it was a perfect solution. "You are, aren't you? You're going to pass intel to us!"

"Clever girl," he smiled. "Yes. I will root out the corruption within the First Order and hand them over to Ren's tender justice. I will use him as a sword and when the boil is lanced, I will see that he is destroyed as well. Then I can take my rightful place as Supreme Leader and change the course of the First Order back to our initial manifest. Order. Safety. Peace. Freedom. For us and for others. For those that want it," he added to soothe the worry from Rose's expression. "All will be well, sweetling."

"I'd make you promise, but there's too much to be left to fate for me to ask that of you," she sighed with a soft smile, reaching up to smooth back his bright hair. She took a deep breath. "Okay. We need to get off of this floating piece of rocksalt, first. Let's go."

After one last kiss, Hux got up and offered Rose a hand. The wars might go on out there, among the stars, but for them, everything to come would be very different, no matter what they discovered.


End file.
